Trouble in the Dark
682 Words
Ethan’s POV
We cut down through the back streets behind the shop, where the city changed. The air smelled like burnt oil and rain, and the neon from a liquor store sign flickered red against the puddles.
Amelia’s pace was fast and sharp, like every step was a warning.
You don’t have to come, she said, not slowing down.
I’m already here, I answered.
She didn’t argue. That was her version of trust.
We turned onto Ninth, where a crowd of kids were hanging outside a convenience store, too loud for the hour. Amelia stopped short when she spotted a familiar figure sitting on the curb, a baggy hoodie, a bruised lip, and blood on his knuckles.
Evan. Her voice cracked the air.
He looked up, eyes wide. Mia, what the hell, Evan? She was already kneeling, checking his face, his hands. Who did this?
I’m fine.
You’re bleeding.
It’s nothing. Just a fight, okay?
She stood, fury flashing across her face. You promised me you were done with that.
A few of the boys nearby shifted nervously. One of them, tall with a shaved head, muttered something about telling your girl to calm down.
Before I could think, I stepped forward. Watch your mouth.
The guy snorted. Who are you?
Amelia grabbed my arm. Ethan, don’t
But I couldn’t stop myself. Someone who knows when to shut up. You should learn.
The kid glared for a second before shrugging and backing off. They weren’t used to someone older, taller, and angrier than them.
Amelia turned on Evan again. Get up. We’re leaving.
He did, mumbling under his breath.
We walked in silence for a few blocks until we reached her apartment building. The hallway light flickered as she unlocked the door and pushed her brother inside.
Once we were in, she spun on him. Talk.
Evan dropped onto the couch, arms crossed. Some guys at the garage. They said I owed them money from last month. It got heated.
Money for what?
He didn’t answer.
Amelia knelt in front of him, voice low but shaking. Evan, please. Don’t lie to me.
He met her eyes, guilt flashing across his face. I borrowed a little. For the shop. You said we needed new parts, remember? I was trying to help.
Amelia closed her eyes, a quiet sound escaping her, a mix of anger and heartbreak. I never asked you to fix things that way.
He looked away. I know. I’m sorry.
She stood, running a hand through her hair, pacing the small room. How much?
Five hundred.
She froze. Five hundred?
He nodded, shame creeping in. I’ll get it back, I swear.
Amelia sank onto the edge of the table, staring at the wall. You can’t even cover rent right now. How are you going to pay people who beat you up over pocket change?
I stayed quiet, watching the two of them. The anger in her voice wasn’t cruelty; it was fear. Every word said, I can’t lose you, too.
When she finally spoke again, it was to me. You should go, Ethan. This isn’t your problem.
I’m not leaving you like this, I said.
She looked at me, then really looked. You don’t even know us.
Maybe not. But I know what it looks like when someone’s in over their head. I answered.
She stared at me for a long second, then sighed. You really don’t quit, do you? She asked.
Not when I care. I answered.
That slipped out before I could stop it.
Her expression softened, just a fraction. You care too easily. She said.
Maybe, I said. Or maybe you make it easy.
For a heartbeat, the world went still, just her eyes on mine, the distance between us electric and heavy.
Then she broke it, standing and grabbing her jacket again. I’m going out. I’ll talk to the guys he owes. Maybe they’ll listen.
Maybe you shouldn’t, I said quickly. You think they’ll respect a conversation?
I’ve dealt with worse. I’m coming.
She looked like she wanted to argue, but she didn’t. She just nodded once.
- Writer
